Toad Rage - Morris Gleitzman [32]
“Goliath,” said Limpy wearily, “sit down.”
“I can't,” said Goliath. “I'm too upset. Right now I'm probably the most upset individual on the planet.”
Limpy was about to say, “Actually, you're not,” when another voice said it first.
Limpy stared.
A slug was crawling toward them.
Limpy's first impulse was to eat it. Then he recognized its friendly face. It was the slug who had brought them there in the first place.
“Why aren't you off training with the others?” said Limpy.
“They don't want me in their Games,” said the slug sadly. “They say I'm too slimy.”
“Bad luck,” said Limpy.
“Yeah,” said Goliath. “Very upsetting for you. But I'm still the most upset.”
“Actually,” said the slug, “I think she is.”
He pointed upward with a feeler.
Limpy looked up. Through the grating he could see the telly screen flickering in the bar above them. On the screen was the girl. She was talking to an interviewer and struggling to hold back tears.
“She's just been banned from competing in the pole-vaulting final,” said the slug. “She failed the blood test.”
“What blood test?” said Limpy.
“Athletes get tested to make sure they haven't got any drugs or chemicals in their blood,” said the slug. “Stuff that'll enhance their performance. They found some sort of weird steroid in hers. She says she doesn't know how it got there. It's a prohibited substance, so she's automatically banned.”
“Serves her right for cheating,” said Goliath. “I reckon cheats should be run over by trucks.”
Limpy turned away from the screen. Humans, he thought sadly. Even the good ones turn out to be dud.
“Actually,” said the slug, “she might not have been cheating. Certain poisons and venoms contain steroids. Perhaps she was bitten by a snake or something.”
Limpy stared at the slug.
His mind was racing.
It raced all the way back to the park where the girl had taken him after rescuing him from the teenagers in the loading dock.
He'd accidentally scratched her hand.
Could some of his poison have gotten into her blood?
It was possible.
Limpy looked back up at the screen. The bloke with the clipboard was being interviewed now, red-faced and angry.
Then the girl was on again, looking even sadder than she did before.
Watching her, Limpy felt his own throat tighten.
It would be difficult paying her back for saving him.
And scary.
And very dangerous.
I don't care, he thought wearily.
So far this month I've failed to save my species, I haven't even been able to protect my own mum and dad and sister, and I'll probably be flattened by a truck myself sooner or later.
I want to do one good thing before I die.
Limpy could hear the girl sobbing on her bed as he and Goliath clambered in through the bathroom window and dropped into the bathtub.
“This is crazy,” muttered Goliath. “This is gunna end with us having wet cheeks too, except it'll be dog slobber.”
Limpy reached up and put his hands on Goliath's shoulders.
He took a deep breath so his voice wouldn't wobble. This was the most important thing he'd ever said to Goliath, and big cousins sometimes didn't take you seriously if your voice was wobbling.
“Goliath,” said Limpy, “I want you to stay here.”
Goliath's mouth flopped open.
“I mean it,” said Limpy firmly.
“No way,” said Goliath. “I'm not letting you go off to be dog meat on your own.”
Limpy took another deep breath. This was exactly what he'd expected Goliath to say.
He looked hard into Goliath's eyes.
“I need you to stay here,” he said. “Dad will have put the word around by now that I'm on a mission to stop humans killing cane toads. The folks at home don't know I've failed. They don't know they still have to watch out for cars and trucks. It's really important that one of us gets back to warn them.”
Limpy paused while Goliath digested this.
“I'm sure I'll be okay,” he went on, “but just in case I'm not, you'll have to go back on your own. Get a cockroach to direct you to the city market, find a truck with mangoes painted on the side, and stow away.”
Goliath swallowed, and Limpy saw that his cousin's warts were